


Step by Step

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Thirst [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Exploring feelings, M/M, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: Sequel to Thirst. Malcolm slowly recovers from his injuries when he and Archer were caught in a cave in on an away mission.We're gonna take it step by stepLittle by little, that's allAnd although it may be a long timeIf you and I'm strong, that's allStep By Step - Ocean Colour Scene
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
Series: Thirst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982401
Kudos: 6





	Step by Step

**Author's Note:**

> In Enterprise fandom, my OTP is and always will be Reed/Tucker, however, in any fandom there are times when the subtext for other pairings comes through and has to be acted on. That's why I have written a few Archer/Reed stories am sharing them here because ... well I know they are someone's OTP and I am all 'bout catering to that!

  
  
  
**I**

  
Malcolm Reed awoke to an uneasy feeling that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Something had woken him, but he didn’t know what.  
He frowned, still half asleep, noting it was early dawn if the lighting in sickbay was anything to go by.  
  
Phlox's creatures chattered and rustled in the semi-darkness, but there was no sense of alarm in their activity, it was the normal  
waking movement of contented animals. That wasn't what had woken him.  
  
Suddenly, realization struck and Malcolm sat bolt upright in bed.  
  
"Doctor!" he called sharply. "Phlox!"  
  
A moment later, the doctor came through the privacy screen, scanner in hand, and blue eyes alight with concern.  
  
"What is the matter, Lieutenant?"  
  
"My foot!" Malcolm said shakily. "I have pins and needles in my foot!"  
  
"Excellent!" Phlox laid down the scanner and exchanged it for a patella hammer.  
  
Applying the sharp end to the sole of Reed's right foot, he looked into the lieutenant's face expectantly.  
  
"I don't feel it," Malcolm said, "It's the other foot."  
  
Nodding, Phlox changed feet, and pressed against the tender flesh under the instep.  
  
Malcolm frowned and shook his head, and then he smiled. "Yes... it's faint, but I can _feel_ that!"  
  
"Marvelous!" Phlox put down the hammer, his features splitting into a beaming smile. "I knew it was only a matter of time."  
  
Reed stared at his foot, his expression an odd mix of cautious delight and concern. "Why only the one?" he asked, looking at the doctor.  
"Why is it so faint? Why isn't the other side reacting?"  
  
"Questions, questions." Phlox smiled as he patted Reed on the shoulder. "It's quite normal for one side to be more profoundly affected than  
the other," he explained. "But the symptoms will ease before long, I assure you. You just need to be patient."  
  
Reed nodded and lay back against the pillows.  
  
"Any progress is good progress," Phlox told him. He hovered, fussing with tidying a small trolley by the bed. "Do you want me to inform the  
senior staff?" he asked after a moment. "Captain Archer asked to be informed of any change, and I'm sure there are others who would like to know."  
  
"Yes," Reed said. "That would be fine." He closed his eyes, focusing on the faint tingling in his right foot and marveling that there had ever been a  
time when he considered pins and needles an irritation. At this moment, the prickling sensation was the best thing he could ever remember feeling.  
  
\---  
  
Captain Archer stood in the command center, surrounded by his senior staff, with the noticeable absence of Malcolm Reed. First order of business  
that morning had been the information that T'Pol had found traces of a Xindi warp signature which indicated a ship had passed their current location  
within the past seven days.  
  
Having discussed the trail, and decided to follow it up, the staff now turned their attention to other, less pressing business. Hoshi reported she had  
managed to translate some more of the database, and Travis gave a report on the navigational systems.  
  
When they were done, Archer looked around.  
  
"Does anyone have anything to add?"  
  
Tucker shuffled his feet and waved a PADD that he’d brought with him to the meeting.  
  
"Cap'n I think it's time we started lookin' at ways to get Malcolm back to work... he's mopin' away in sickbay and I don't think it's good for 'im." He gave  
the doctor an apologetic look. "He needs t'be doin something--" Tucker took a quick breath and rushed on as though afraid someone would interrupt.  
"I've been workin' on some ideas--"  
  
"If the doctor hasn’t cleared Lieutenant Reed for duty, your ideas are moot, Commander," T'Pol broke in with a quelling glance at the engineer before  
she turned to Phlox. "Doctor?"  
  
Tucker's face assumed an expression very close to a sneer and he opened his mouth to retort but was checked by a speaking glance from the captain.  
He clamped his lips together, looking to Phlox expectantly.  
  
"I see no reason why the Lieutenant should remain in sickbay," Phlox said quietly. "In fact, I am pleased to report, that Mister Reed has made some  
progress overnight. He has limited sensation in one foot, which is a very positive change."  
  
The news was greeted with quiet jubilation from everyone. Even T'Pol raised one eyebrow and noted that this was, indeed, welcome news.  
  
Archer smiled and thanked the doctor for his report. He turned to Tucker. "What have you got?"  
  
"A hover-chair," Tucker said, handing over the PADD he carried so the captain could look at it. "I based it off the design of one that we've got in storage,  
but I've modified it a little to suit Malcolm's needs... it has its own inertial dampeners so he can't get thrown out of it if we're takin' some heat... and  
I've adjusted the arms so they can be swung out of his way if he needs to move from it to his chair on the bridge."  
  
As Tucker spoke, the captain reviewed the PADD, nodding as his eyes followed along with the engineer's narrative.  
  
"It's smaller than the one we've got, so it can get through the doorways and along corridors without creatin' problems, and--"  
  
"Trip." Archer held up a hand with an indulgent smile at his friend. "I think it's a great idea," he said. "Get on it. I trust you to design a chair that will suit  
Malcolm's needs perfectly."  
  
Tucker nodded and accepted the PADD from the captain's hand. "I'll make it a priority, sir."  
  
"Won't Malcolm's chair on the bridge need to be modified too?" Hoshi Sato spoke from the back of the room. "He might need extra support for his back. And--"  
She paused searching for words. "Those chairs don't provide much protection from falling. Malcolm would need to be secure. After all he can't--" She trailed  
off with a sigh of relief as the doctor chimed in with his support of her idea.  
  
"Lieutenant Reed does have special needs in that area at present," Phlox said.  
  
"I will determine the feasibility of upgrading the Lieutenant's chair at the tactical station," T'Pol said, earning appreciative glances from several staff members.  
  
"All right," Archer said. "I think we can call this meeting adjourned." He nodded to his staff and headed for the doors. He wanted to pay a brief visit to sickbay  
and see for himself how Malcolm was feeling before he started work.  
  
  
**II**  
  
Malcolm Reed pressed his lips together in a firm line, determination clearly stamped in every feature as he pushed one foot slowly forward, edging it in front  
of the other.  
The veins in his arms bulged from bearing his weight on the bars at either side as he practiced the motions of walking.  
  
He could just barely feel the floor beneath his feet. His heart pounded from the strain of inching his way back and forth along the supporting bars.  
  
Liz Cutler edged along backwards in front of him, and an orderly was at his back.  
  
"Just a little further, Lieutenant," Cutler said encouragingly. "A few more steps to the end, and then you can rest. You've done really well today."  
  
Nodding, Reed didn't look up. He kept his eyes focused on his feet, willing them to move. He was tired. He'd inched his way along the bars and back three times.  
That was one time more than Phlox had recommended, but he felt the need to push beyond the exercises the doctor set for him. Since beginning to regain sensation  
in his legs and feet a few days before, he'd been working to re-learn the basic skills of walking. He wanted to be independent, he wanted to attain to the dream Jonathan  
had of him going back to work, so he pushed himself accordingly.  
  
Three more steps, two more. One, and he reached the end of the bars. He made to turn around and go back but Cutler shook her head and laid a restraining hand on his arm.  
  
"That's enough for today," she said. "You won’t progress any faster by wearing yourself out." She smiled, applying light pressure to his arm. "You can think about  
increasing the time you spend at this in a few days."  
  
For a moment, he considered arguing, but the burning sensation in his arms convinced him that he had really done as much as he was physically able to for now.  
He nodded a touch reluctantly and allowed Cutler and the orderly to support him to a chair.  
  
Once he was settled, Cutler handed him a PADD to read. It was the daily report from the armory; Reed had agreed to receive them, and at least attempt to let his staff  
know he was still in command. He knew it made Jonathan happy, and Reed was content to do anything to make Archer happy. Tilting his head at that thought, Reed  
paused for a moment before activating the PADD. It was strange to think of Jonathan Archer in intimate terms, rather than as Captain, but at the same time it was  
comforting. He allowed himself a smile and then turned his attention to the report.  
  
He spent a pleasant few minutes catching up with what had turned out to be an uneventful gamma shift and was distracted from his reading by a small commotion at  
the sickbay doors. Glancing up, his eyes widened at the scene.  
  
Commander Tucker walked towards him pushing a contraption that resembled... it couldn't be. Reed studied the thing a moment, and then raised his eyes to Tucker's face.  
  
"What the hell is _that_?" He knew very well what it was, and the stupid grin plastered all over Tucker's face didn't help.  
  
"It's a hover-chair, Malcolm." Tucker said. "Haven't ya ever seen one before?"  
  
"Of course I have seen one!" Reed's tone was icy. "What is it doing here?" He looked into Tucker's eyes and then shook his head. "You had better not tell me it's for me."  
  
"Well, sure it is!" Tucker looked puzzled. "It's custom-built. It's got everythin' y’could--"  
  
"Take it out of here." Reed met the engineer's enthusiasm with cold indifference. "I don't want it... I don't _need_ it."  
  
"Malcolm--"  
  
"You heard me, Commander."  
  
"This chair'll get ya outta here, Malcolm, you can control it for yourself, and it's got inertial dampeners, so you can't be thrown out of it. I built it to my own specifications and--"  
  
"Trip!" Malcolm scowled and leaned forward in his chair. "I. Don't. _Want_ a hover-chair. Do I have to spell it out?"  
  
Tucker let go the handles of the chair and stepped around it, confronting his friend with hands on hips. "Well, want it or not, y’need it for now and... the Cap'n himself told  
me to build it for ya. I'm not takin' it back to engineerin'; there's no room to stow it down there. It's gonna stay right there and you can fight this out with the Cap'n."  
  
He paused, frowning as he met his friend's eyes. "I thought y’woulda jumped at the chance to get out of sickbay, Malcolm." He shrugged and turned away. "I gotta get  
back t'work."  
  
Tucker stomped out, leaving the chair parked in front of Reed.  
  
Staring at the thing, Reed gritted his teeth, struggling to contain the anger and frustration it caused. He knew his reaction was unreasonable, but to be confronted so  
soon after his success in physical therapy, with evidence of just how far he really was from leaving sickbay on his own two feet stung.  
  
Tucker had never been the soul of tact and discretion, Reed thought, but his timing on this particular occasion fell so far short of perfect that it was pathetic.  
  
With a sigh, and a shake of his head, Reed tore his gaze from the hover-chair and determinedly focused on the PADD he held. If he ignored the chair, maybe someone  
would come and take it away, because there was no way in the universe Malcolm Reed would be seen outside of sickbay unless he went on his own feet.  
  
**III**  
  
Captain Archer made his way along the corridor to sickbay, carefully bearing a covered tray from the galley. He'd made a habit of having lunch with Malcolm since the  
day the armory officer began to regain sensation in his feet.  
  
Their lunches were a pleasant interlude in the captain's busy workdays. Reed had a finely developed sense of irony and employed it often. He was also an intelligent  
conversationalist, and Archer enjoyed discussing everything from weaponry to Chaucer to classical music with the man whom he had discovered was not afraid of a good  
heated debate, either firmly held opinions were challenged.  
  
A small grin lit the captain's features as he recalled one such debate on the subject of literature just a few days previously. He looked forward to raising the subject again,  
just to see the light of battle in Malcolm’s eyes.  
  
Stepping into the sickbay, Archer almost collided with a member of his Engineering staff. He nodded to the man.  
  
"Ensign O'Hara."  
  
O'Hara nodded and shot a glance towards the curtained off area around Reed's bed.  
  
"If you're goin in there, I reckon you'd better toss yer 'at in first, Sir," he said in a broad Australian accent. "'Tenant Reed's pretty cheesed off about somethin'."  
  
Archer frowned, looking from O'Hara to the curtained area and back. He had to admit he was glad he'd spent some time in Australia during his Star Fleet training; it had  
helped, just to be able to understand O’Hara when he’d applied for a position in Engineering.  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," he said politely. "Thanks."  
  
Reed was in his armchair next to his bed, his eyes fixed on a PADD when Archer stepped through the privacy screen. He didn't look up or acknowledge Archer's presence.  
  
The captain set the tray down on the bedside table.  
  
"Hello," he said and received a small grunt in response. Okay, so Malcolm was in a sulk and Archer could see the reason for it. Parked in front of Malcolm's chair, square on  
so that it was unavoidable, was a hover chair.  
  
"I see Trip wasted no time in getting that chair ready for you," Archer smiled and fetched another chair, setting it next to the hover chair before he sat down.  
  
Reed glanced up and met his eyes for a moment, and then looked away. He turned off the PADD and set it aside, still not speaking.  
  
"Malcolm, is there a problem?" Archer had never been one to dance around an issue. Some people called him bull-headed. Some called him even less complimentary things,  
but he’d found that it seldom paid to beat around the bush. "Is it the chair?"  
  
Reed's glance would have frozen water. He met Archer's eyes and then let his gaze trail to the chair.  
  
"I'm going to walk again, sir," he said in a small, defensive tone.  
  
"Of course you are! No one's suggesting otherwise."  
  
"Aren't they?" Reed met his eyes again and Archer read the pain and confusion in them. "Then why bother _ordering_ Commander Tucker to build me a hover-chair? If you're so  
convinced that I will walk again..." he waved a hand at the chair. "Why this?"  
  
"I didn't exactly order Trip to build the chair. He--"  
  
" _He_ says you did." Reed mimicked Tucker's voice: "The Cap'n himself told me to build it for ya."  
  
Archer had to suppress a grin, wondering if Reed was aware of just how funny and adorable he sounded when he imitated the engineer's accent.  
  
"Well, the chair was Trip's idea," he said. "I supported it, and I told him to go ahead and build it for you. But it wasn't an order, Malcolm, it wasn't like that, it was... a mutual  
agreement on the part of all the staff to give you the opportunity to come back to work while you continue your rehab."  
  
"Oh." Reed lowered his eyes.  
  
"Malcolm, no one is expecting you to stay in the chair for good." Archer reached for the younger man's hand, holding it in his own as he spoke. "We all expect you to get  
back on your feet and walk again. We're all pulling for you, for that to happen." He smiled. "But we want you to feel that you're still a functioning member of the crew in  
the meantime."  
  
He watched the play of emotions on Reed's face as the lieutenant processed his words.  
  
"Besides," Archer went on in a confidential tone. "I want to get you out of here. I'd like to take you somewhere more private and--" He leaned forward to whisper the last  
few words close to Reed's ear.  
  
Pulling back, he delighted in the bright spots of color that stained his lover's cheeks. He met Malcolm's eyes with a boyish grin and winked at him.  
  
A ghost of a smile touched the lieutenant's lips and then he shook his head slightly.  
  
"You are incorrigible." Reed’s gaze moved to the tray the captain had brought with him. "So, what's for lunch?"  
  
**IV**  
  
It was late evening before Reed received any further visitors. He was still sitting up, reading by the illumination of a small light above his bed when the sound of footsteps  
made him look up. From what he could tell, two people were approaching his bed. Although he couldn't see them through the privacy screen, he could distinctly make out  
the heavy tread of a male and the lighter, quicker steps of a woman.  
  
Mayweather and Sato, he guessed. He'd known that both of them were working the beta shift that day, and a glance at the clock by his bed told him that their shifts  
ended a half hour before. He laid the PADD he held in his lap and watched the privacy screen in anticipation.  
  
A moment later, Mayweather entered, closely followed by Hoshi.  
  
"Hi Malcolm," Mayweather said cheerfully.  
  
"Travis," Reed replied. He nodded to Sato, "Hello Hoshi." He smiled in genuine pleasure to see his two friends. "What brings you two here so late?"  
  
"We're trying to get a poker game going," Mayweather said. "We need one more person and we thought... since you're not doing anything--"  
  
"Poker? Here?" Reed began to shake his head, but was forestalled.  
  
"No," Mayweather said with a grin. "Even _I_ know Phlox wouldn't allow that; he told us last time we tried playing cards in sickbay that it was too noisy and distracting.  
We're playing in my cabin and we need a fourth." He grinned and waved at the hover-chair, still annoyingly parked in front of where Reed sat. "You've got transport  
now, so--"  
  
At Reed's frown, Sato quickly stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Besides, you promised me a chance to try and win back some of the money you so unfairly won from me last time." She tried to pout, but dissolved into an impish  
grin and a fit of giggles at Reed's look of indignation.  
  
"Okay, okay so maybe I was a little hasty in accusing you of cheating," she said, waving her hands in surrender, "But I still want a chance at getting my money back.  
I was saving it for our next shore leave."  
  
Reed eyed the detested chair for a moment, his eyes darkening with worry as he considered going out and being seen by other members of the crew.  
  
As though reading his mind, Mayweather chimed in. "It's late, Malcolm, hardly anyone's around, and you only have to come to my cabin. We probably won't even  
see anyone on the way."  
  
"Pleeaaase?" Sato cajoled and Reed finally relented with a look of mock dismay.  
  
"Dear God," he muttered. "The one thing I admit to being powerless to resist is a whining Hoshi!" He met Mayweather's eyes. "Are you certain there is no one about  
who will make a fuss?"  
  
"On my honor," Mayweather said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart and Reed sighed and shook his head.  
  
"I wouldn't do this for many people, you know?" He softened his words with a smile. "Would you mind?" He held out a hand, asking for assistance to get from one  
chair to the other.  
  
"Pleasure," Mayweather said with a delighted grin. "And I promise I'll never tell a living soul," he added, pre-empting Reed's warning.  
  
They made the trip to Mayweather's cabin without encountering too many people, and those they did see merely greeted Reed cordially as they passed, seemingly  
ignoring the chair.  
  
Reed was glad, when they entered Mayweather's quarters and the door slid closed behind them. He maneuvered the chair so that it was out of the pathway to the  
door and looked around.  
  
"You said you needed a fourth," he remarked, "Where is the other player?" For a dreadful moment, he wondered if Tucker or the captain had planned this whole  
thing to get him out of sickbay. He was relieved when Mayweather smiled and replied.  
  
"Ken should be here soon, he was responsible for getting snacks."  
  
Nodding, Reed allowed his gaze to roam around the familiar surroundings of Mayweather's cabin. He was glad that he had chosen to come. It was a nice change  
of scenery after staring at the same sterile walls for so long.  
  
A few moments later, the door swished open and a small, dark-haired man walked in. He wore the red stripe on his uniform that denoted service departments  
and Reed recognized him as the recently promoted O'Hara, the crewman who'd been injured several months before on an away mission with Reed.  
  
Known affectionately to the crew as ‘Scarlett,’ Ken O'Hara was a friendly and outgoing man who got along well with his crewmates. He nodded to the new-minted  
ensign as O'Hara greeted him and then moved to a small table with the bounty he carried.  
  
"I got chips, beer, a few pretzels and..." he turned to Sato and held up a foil wrapped package. "Chocolate!"  
  
With a squeal of delight, Sato pounced on the package. "I'll love you forever, Scarlett!"  
  
"Yeah that's what they all say." O'Hara rolled his eyes. "But it only lasts as long as the chockies do."  
  
Reed smiled, relaxing, and moved his chair closer to the table as the others sat down.  
  
Mayweather produced a deck of cards and began to shuffle.  
  
"Five card stud," he said, talking through the side of his mouth. "Nothing wild."  
  
"Aw c'mon, Roo," O'Hara said. "It's always more fun when the Jokers are wild."  
  
Reed lifted an eyebrow and glanced at Mayweather. "Roo? Have I wandered into an A.A. Milne story?"  
  
"No," Mayweather replied with a grin. He looked at O'Hara, "Maybe you should explain it, Scarlett."  
  
O'Hara nodded, scooping up his cards as Mayweather dealt. He glanced at Reed. "In Australia, we have these big old red kangaroos. They're the biggest and nastiest  
buggers of their species; the old timers used to say that when these things hopped they made a boomin' noise, so they got nicknamed 'Boomers.' First time I heard  
anyone call Travis here a 'Boomer' I thought of one of those 'roos. I s'pose the name just stuck after I got to know ‘im."  
  
"A big, nasty bugger?" Reed cast a speculative glance over Mayweather and nodded after a moment. "I think it fits," he said, eliciting a chuckle from Mayweather,  
and a fit of giggles from Sato.  
  
Watching Mayweather after the exchange, Reed noted the way the younger man's eyes flickered to O'Hara's face often as the poker hand progressed. Once, he  
surprised a soft gleam in Mayweather's eyes when they met O'Hara's over the cards.  
  
Reed looked from one to the other, speculating on what he'd seen and then allowed his gaze to fall to his hand, feeling privileged to be included in the small  
party that evening. He smiled to himself, realizing that the invitation was tantamount to being included in a confidence.  
  
After a pleasant two hours of play, Sato declared she was going to quit while she was ahead. She had won several hands and gloated over the small cache of IOUS  
she had listed on a PADD in front of her.  
  
"I’m on Alpha shift tomorrow,” she said. “Unlike _some_ of us, who get to lie around doing nothing all day!" Her dark eyes swept the three men in the room before  
she waved and departed with a grin.  
  
"You're off tomorrow?" Reed met Mayweather's eyes across the table.  
  
"Uh-huh, the first time in two weeks that Scarlett and I are rostered off together." Mayweather replied with a brief touch to O'Hara's thigh.  
  
Reed nodded and turned his attention to O'Hara.  
  
"How did you wind up being named Scarlett?" O'Hara was dark-haired with blue eyes. It had always puzzled Reed that he'd been given a nickname that would normally  
apply to someone with red hair.  
  
O'Hara shrugged. "Ozzie humor I s'pose." He said with an affable grin. "Ozzies like to take the piss out of anything sacred and I s'pose _Gone with the Wind_ qualifies. I  
got the name in school. I had a... friend named Brett, and Ozzies bein' what they are, they decided "Brett 'n' Scarlett sounded better than Brett 'n' Ken."  
  
His grin widened. "It could've bin worse; they coulda nicknamed Brett, Barbie."  
  
Reed cleared his throat and nodded, half wishing he'd not asked. One thing he'd learned about O'Hara from brief encounters with the Engineering staff member in the  
past, was that he was candid to a fault. He smiled and looked at Mayweather.  
  
"Perhaps I should be heading back... Phlox is probably wondering if I've gotten lost."  
  
Mayweather nodded and got to his feet, "I'll walk you back."  
  
"Oh, no, there's really no need." Reed held up a hand. "I... think I can manage." He pressed the controls on the arm of his chair to back it away from the table. "I need  
to get used to the idea of moving about in this thing sometime."  
  
"Okay," Mayweather shot him a dazzling smile. "Thanks."  
  
With a nod, Reed turned the chair towards the door and sent it forward. He had to give Tucker one thing, he thought as the chair glided smoothly, responding to the  
smallest twitch of his fingers on the control pad. He knew how to build one hell of a transportation device.  
  
**V**  
  
The evening in Mayweather's cabin had given Reed a taste of normalcy which had been lacking since the accident. It was a taste he was reluctant to spoil by going  
back to the sterile environs of sickbay.  
  
He sighed, bringing the chair to a halt as he pondered what to do.  
  
He pressed a control to bring the chair around, and sent it in the direction of the lift. He didn't want to be in his own cabin, either, he thought, but even the thought  
of spending the rest of the night alone was a hundred times better than spending it with the company of the mostly sleepless Denobulan and his menagerie.  
  
He brought the chair to a halt outside the lift, and was about press the call button when someone called his name.  
  
Turning to look in that direction, Reed smiled. Captain Archer with Porthos at his heels approached him along the corridor.  
  
"Hi," Archer came to a stop beside him. "Let me get that for you."  
  
"No, I can do it," Reed replied. He quickly tapped the button, and watched as the door slid open.  
  
"Phlox discharged you this late at night?"  
  
"Not officially." Reed looked into the lift, but made no attempt to enter.  
  
"Does he know you've left?" The captain smiled down at him and Reed shook his head.  
  
"Not...officially." He searched for a change of subject. "You're out late, sir,"  
  
Archer chuckled. "I know. Damned insomniac dog." The captain patted his thigh, inviting Porthos to rest his forepaws there to have his ears scratched. "He likes a  
walk late at night. I think he's just making one last patrol, really; makes him feel important."  
  
Reed nodded and reached to scratch the beagle behind his ears as well. His fingers grazed against Archer's and Reed drew back quickly at the contact.  
  
Archer let out the merest breath of a sigh. “Get down,” he murmured to the beagle.  
  
"Well, I guess I'd better let you turn in," he said as he moved away.  
  
"Captain." Reed allowed the chair to glide after him for a few feet.  
  
Archer stopped and looked back over his shoulder.  
  
"Would you... mind if I walked... er if I..."  
  
"I'd like that," Archer saved him trying to phrase his request and they moved on together along the corridor.  
  
They made several laps of C deck before the beagle showed signs of flagging, and Archer eventually stopped by the lift again. He looked down at Malcolm.  
  
"It sounds to me like you had a very nice evening," he said. Reed had told him about the card game in Mayweather's cabin, leaving out the more personal details.  
  
"It was nice to get out," Reed said with a small nod. He followed the captain into the lift.  
  
They made their way to Archer's cabin door when the lift arrived. Reed watched as Archer keyed in his access code and the door slid open. Porthos bounded inside  
and flopped down on his dog bed.  
  
There was silence for a moment and Reed turned his head to look along the corridor, dreading the prospect of returning to his own, empty, silent cabin. He drew  
a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to look at the captain.  
  
"Well," he said. "Goodnight."  
  
"Malcolm," Archer said. "Stay with me tonight?"  
  
  
  


The air seemed suddenly charged with energy. Reed drew a sharp breath. He nodded,  
unable to speak for the beating of his heart, and sent the chair forward into the captain's cabin.  
  
Porthos lifted his head from his paws and yipped a greeting, but he didn't move from his bed.  
  
Moving into the room behind Reed, the captain stepped to the front of the chair and held out his hands, pulling Reed to his feet when the lieutenant took hold of  
them. He drew Reed into his arms, easily supporting Malcolm as he held him close.  
  
Reed felt a shiver run through him as he was gathered into strong, supportive arms. He looked into sea-green eyes, drowning in the depth of emotion he read in  
them and then he surrendered as Archer pulled him in closer and kissed him.  
  
Lips locked, Archer stooped a little and lifted Reed off his feet, carrying him to the bed, where he broke their kiss only long enough to lay his lover down and lie  
next to him before he claimed another, deep, passionate kiss, his hands moving to the buttons of Reed's shirt.  
  
Lost in passion, breathing hard, Reed did what little he could to help his get out of his shirt, and then remove the loose fitting, casual pants he wore of a  
daytime in sickbay.  
  
He was soon naked to Archerr's gaze, and yielded to the touch of warm, gentle hands that stirred him to the heights of need.  
  
He arched his back as one strong hand ran the length of his body from throat to belly and then lower, closing around his aching cock. He groaned, eyes closed,  
and let himself drift as his lover stroked him. He called Jon's name as the pleasure within him mounted to a throbbing wave that threatened to wash over him,  
stealing his breath and turning his words to incoherent moans and sighs of need.  
  
When he felt Jon's mouth close around him, the world fragmented into tiny filaments that seemed to take an age to reform into anything intelligible.  
  
Sated, and too tired to bother trying to make sense of anything much, Reed burrowed into the warmth of his lover's body as Archer moved up to lie next to him  
again, pulling him into his arms and cradling him, tenderly kissing his hair and stroking his back.  
  
Reed drifted to sleep, safe in the harbor of his partner's love.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**VI**  
  
  
Reed lay on his back in Archer's bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was mildly panicked. He'd woken, alone, several minutes before and had lain there since,  
pondering how he was going to get out of the cabin. Archer had obviously got up dressed and gone to work, leaving him sleeping. Normally, that wouldn't  
present a problem, Reed thought. Normally, he would merely have got out of bed, dressed and left. Despite the vague ache in his chest at the thought that  
the captain hadn't even bothered to wake him; had just left him there. Helpless.  
  
Reed frowned. Surely Jonathan wouldn't do such a thing, he reasoned. Surely, he knows I can't get to the chair from here. He _must_ understand that I can't even...  
  
His thoughts trailed off as the cabin door slid open and Porthos bounded into the room and onto the bed, enthusiastically greeting Reed with a shower of slobbery   
doggy kisses.  
  
"Down, boy," Archer's mildly amused voice broke in on the scene and as the dog immediately obeyed his master's command, Reed met Jonathan’s over a laden  
breakfast tray.  
  
"Sorry," Archer said. "I was hoping to be back before you woke." He smiled and set the tray on his desk. "I didn't want to disturb you earlier. I hope eggs are okay?"  
  
Relief washing over him, Reed sat up, pushing his legs over the side of the bed. He reached for his pants which lay on the floor nearby. The garment was just out  
of his reach and Archer quickly reached to steady him as he almost fell from the bed.  
  
"Let me." Archer picked up the pants and helped Reed into them.  
  
"Eggs are fine," Reed said once he was at least semi-clothed, "But I would like to wash up, first, if you don't mind?"  
  
"Sure," Archer moved to the side of the bed and offered Reed his hands. "Do you think you can make it to the head if I support you?"  
  
Appreciating the offer, Reed nodded. "I'd like to try," he said. He put his hands into the captain's and unsteadily got to his feet with Archer's help.  
  
With Archer's help, Reed made it into the head, the captain discreetly withdrawing for a few moments, but waiting by the door in case he was needed.  
  
When he was done, Reed pulled himself up against the doorframe and put his head out of the room. "Would you bring the chair over?"  
  
"I saw Phlox when I was in the mess getting breakfast," Archer said as they ate. "He asked me to remind you, you have a therapy session at 0900."  
  
Reed glanced up, a puzzled frown touching his brow. "How..."  
  
Archer grinned. "I hope you don't mind, I let the doctor know where you were when I got up this morning. I didn't want him to worry."  
  
"Oh..." Reed looked down at his plate, as heat crept into his cheeks. He kept his gaze fastened on his half eaten breakfast, unable to define exactly what he was feeling.  
  
"I'm sure we can trust him, Malcolm."  
  
"Of course..." Reed toyed with a piece of toasted muffin on his fork, swirling it through hollandaise sauce.  
  
"Malcolm?" The captain's gently insistent tone made him look up. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Yes." Reed put down his fork. "I don't know."  
  
Archer laid down his knife and fork and leaned back in his chair. "Want to talk?"  
  
"I..." Reed looked into the captain's eyes and away quickly. "I just don't know what to expect, sir. What's expected of me. What we..." Reed closed his eyes with a frustrated  
sigh. "Last night was very pleasant," he said. "I don't want you to think I didn't enjoy it. It's just that I don't want you to feel you have any kind of obligation." He looked  
at Archer as he ended miserably. "I don't expect you to--"  
  
"Wait." Archer held up a hand. "You think I asked you to stay last night because...I felt obligated to?"  
  
"I don't know." Reed's voice was soft, unhappy. "I don't know what to think."  
  
Archer got up and moved around the table to hunker down beside Reed's hover chair.  
  
"It wasn't." He took hold of Reed's arm in a gentle grasp. "I care about you, Malcolm. I asked you to stay because I wanted to be with you. I wanted to make you happy. I  
wanted you near me."  
  
Reed ventured another glance at the captain and met earnest green eyes that didn't waver from his own.  
  
"Whatever idea you've got in your head that all of this is just pity or...obligation or whatever else. Malcolm, it's not true. I'm with you because I want to be. I'm helping you  
because I care about you. I want to see you get well. It's not about pity. It never was."  
  
Reed nodded and allowed the ghost of a smile to touch his lips. He noted the gleam of hope in Archer's eyes and he shook his head with a small sigh. "I don't deserve this," he said.  
  
"You do. This, and..." Archer leaned in to kiss him briefly, "This and everything that happened last night as well." He ended with an impish grin.  
  
Feeling another blush warm his face, Reed touched the control panel on his chair and moved it to the side before turning to look for his shirt.  
  
"I really should be getting back to sickbay."  
  
Archer straightened up with a nod, and helped Reed to pick up his shirt and put it on. He rested one hand on the younger man's shoulder before Reed left and waited until  
the Lieutenant looked up at him before he spoke.  
  
"I meant what I said, Malcolm. I'm doing all of this because I want to. I hope you can believe that."  
  
Reed nodded. "I do," he said. He sent his chair towards the door. At the door, he stopped and turned to look at the captain. "There's one thing I wanted to ask you, sir."  
  
Archer nodded, moving forward a little. "What is it?"  
  
"If Phlox agrees, I'd like to return to work in the next day or so...perhaps, just in the armory for now?"  
  
Archer's face broke into a wide, delighted grin and he nodded. "Request granted, Lieutenant."  
  
"Thank you, Captain." Reed smiled and swung the chair towards the doors, this time sending it forward and out into the corridor, hardly caring if anyone saw him, or  
commented on it.  
  
  
~FINIS~


End file.
